Giro di giostra
by StillHaddicted
Summary: Season 5, at the end of "Joy". House shows up at Cuddy's place the night she loses the baby. He tries to comfort her, in his way, but things take an unexpected turn. One big "what if" about the kiss, kicking off a long and complicated Huddy adventure.
1. Chapter 1

_I will soon start to post this story, but I felt a little introduction was much needed._

_"Giro di giostra" is the second House story I ever wrote, and it's my little baby. It's not the longest one, nor the most complicated in terms of plot: but I have a special connection with it, because it made me grow as a writer and express myself._

_The story starts in season 5, literally the second after the kiss between House and Cuddy in "Joy". As I said, I wrote this a long time ago, and thank God my writing has improved since then. This is why, before I post, I need to go back to it and do my best to improve upon it. The outcome might still be a little rough, but I can't actually rewrite the entire thing. It would take me forever, and it would change the core of the writing._

_"Giro di giostra" is complete, which means you don't have to worry about me dropping it. Since I will have to go through even single chapter more than once before I can post, therefore I won't post often: but eventually, everything will be out and, hopefully, it will be good enough to keep you hooked until the next chapter._

_Almost done, just a couple of more things._

_First, the title. Titles are always extremely important to me, sometimes I struggle to find the right one even when I have 20 chapters or something ready. I took my time with this one, and in the end I went for something in my language, which can be translated as "carousel ride". It might not make much sense at the beginning, but if things work out well, in the end it will._

_Second thing, is about the titles of the chapters. This is the only story where it felt important to me to give every chapter a title, an identity of its own. At every title plays an important role in the story. At the end of every chapter, I will leave you with the title of the following one._

_I guess that's all for now. I hope I did not annoy with this introduction, and the first chapter will come tomorrow._


	2. WTF

_And here we go. This is the first chapter of "Giro di giostra", and the title is "WTF"._

_I won't say much about it, I said enough in the introduction. This story starts in season 5, and kicks off the second after House and Cuddy kiss in "Joy". From now on, brace yourself! Thank you for giving me this chance, hope you'll enjoy it._

* * *

1

He stared at her silent, with his mouth slightly open. His lips were wet, shining under the lights. His eyes looking in her direction, but somehow lost miles and miles away behind her, trying to find the right thing to say. House quickly fished in his brain, rummaging with all the words he knew hoping to find the right one.

But nothing seemed to fit.

"Goodnight," he whispered instead, then gave her his back and headed to the door.

It took her a few seconds to understand what he had said, because he had spoken in such a low voice, and a few more to realize he was leaving. And yet, while House approached the door, Cuddy somehow managed to say "Goodnight" too.

But when she saw his hand on the doorknob, she fully recovered from the dizziness of the kiss they've shared. Something grew inside her, an urge she couldn't name moved her feet and she caught up with him. He had already opened the door, when he saw her hand resting on it and pushing, slamming it shut. House barely had the time to think of what to say, then he felt her other hand on his shoulder forcing him to turn around. She pushed his back against the door, and when he looked at her he couldn't really tell what was going on in her mind.

Her eyes...he had never seen them that way. They were still full of tears, but there was something else too. She was in pain, not the physical pain he was used to, but a deeper emotional one he had never experimented before. She was hurt, but he couldn't tell if it was his fault, and she was also angry. But even on that vortex of emotions, he could see she was imploring him to do something, hiding her request behind a slight curtain of rage.

Cuddy lifted her hands to touch his face, caressing his stubble, but her light touch was fighting with the anger he could still see in her eyes.

"Stay with me tonight," she implored.

House wasn't really surprised to hear those words, but he was shocked when he heard himself answering back.

"This is a bad idea," he said, in such a calm and convincing tone he barely recognized himself.

As soon as the words slipped out of his mouth, he feared she could start crying again. Or yelling at him, letting all that rage finally come out. But she just stared at him for a second, then leaned on him to kiss him again. When he felt her lips on his, tasting slightly salty because of her tears, his brain told him to push her away. But his body wouldn't listen, and he welcomed her tongue sharing the kiss. Cuddy felt his tongue caressing her mouth and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss until he lowered his hands on her back. She lowered her hands too, grabbing his shoulders through the leather of the jacket and moving them down to his chest, keeping him against the door. He moved both his hands down her back, brushing his fingers on her ass and tightening his grip. When he let go off the cane to do that the sound, however light, broke the spell she had casted on him and House tried to break apart.

"Cuddy, stop," he managed to whisper, hardly recognizing himself in those words. "Don't do this."

Cuddy didn't answer, and didn't look at him either. But above all she didn't stop, and instead kept on searching for his mouth, standing on her tiptoe to reach it, breathing warmly on his neck when he tried to move his face away from hers. The warm and comfortable sensation of her breath on his skin acted like a magnet, his lips engulfed hers again, forcefully pushing his tongue inside her mouth to give her what she seemed to want, holding her head with his hands. Encouraged by his reaction Cuddy moved her hands further down, cupping the growing bulge in his pants and making him moan loudly, half in pain and half for pleasure. His erection was indeed becoming harder, it almost hurt confined in his trousers, and the pain cleared his mind long enough for him to realize how wrong that was.

"This is a bad idea," he said again, however less and less convinced every time he spoke, closing his eyes when she started to kiss his neck, tasting his skin. "You don't want this."

Cuddy didn't bother answering, instead slid her left hand under his shirt and touched his skin, making him shiver again. At the same time her right hand caressed his erection again, tracing all the length of him she could feel under her fingers. He couldn't help but groan at her touch, and when he looked down at her and caught her broad grin he knew he was screwed. Because she was showing how bad she wanted him, and he knew Cuddy could easily things her way.

"You want this too," she whispered in his ear, and when she started to kiss him again he couldn't control himself any longer.

All of a sudden, he grabbed her ass with both hands and pushed her away from the door. With his body entangled with hers, he took a few steps and headed to the living room, but his growing desire for her couldn't make it that far. He forcefully pushed her against the wall, squeezing her butt and pushing himself against her to let her feel what she had done to him. Cuddy felt the pressure of his engrossed shaft on her lap, and lost herself in his tongue and lips slightly biting the skin and flesh on her neck.

Cuddy grabbed the hem of his jacket and started to take it off, but he didn't let her. His arms shrugged hers off and he fought back, he took hold of her sweater and snuck his right hand under the fabric. His hand climbed up reaching for her breasts, caressing the right one while his left hand dove into the back of her pants, finding the soft flesh of her ass.

They carried on kissing, and for the first time House's mind started to think about what was going to happen. He was about to have sex with her, right there, after all those years of fighting and bickering. Something he sure wasn't expecting to happen when he had decided to stop by and check on her.

_I can't do this!_ He thought when Cuddy's hands started to work on his belt. _Not like this, not because of this. I will regret it, and so will she._

He felt her hands struggling with his belt buckle, pushing her waist against him in anticipation, and another voice came to his mind.

_House C'mon! Of course you can do this, she wants you. Go ahead, have some fun. She's begging you for this, you won't regret it._

But there was the problem, in having such a strong personality and a brilliant mind: he could never shut it up. He had to listen, even when he didn't want to. And that was how the rational part of his mind managed to stop him once again.

He stopped kissing her and took her hands in his, pulling them away from his erection. Trying to catch his breath, staring at her intensively, once more House looked for the right thing to tell her, to let her understand he really needed her to stop.

"Listen to me Cuddy. We can't do this...not like this. It won't mean anything if we do it right now-"

Cuddy stared at him in bewilderment, shocked he was actually implying he didn't want to have sex with her. But right when he thought he had convinced her, he saw that cunning smile once again coming back on her face. House knew she wouldn't give up easily, and that she was really willing to give him a hard time. He opened his mouth, but she grabbed the collar of his jacket catching him off guard and pushing his back on the wall, kissing him and moving her hands on his erection as if she hadn't even heard him.

House felt her hands grabbing his cock, her tongue inside his mouth, her breasts pressed against his chest. Cuddy finally got rid of his belt and unzipped his pants, her hand quickly found his shaft hard and warm in his boxers and stroke it, evoking loud moans from his throat trapped in her kisses. House stretched his neck giving her full access, her soft tongue creating an incredible fighting sensation on the rough stubble of his neck and jaw. His hand found her breasts and caressed her skin, pinching her erected nipple with his fingers, causing her to gasp and grab his shaft stronger.

There he was, caving, surrendering to the sensation of her hand seized around his member giving him nothing but blunt and pure pleasure. The anticipation of how much more he could have had from her guided his left hand into her panties, tracing her entrance with his thumb, feeling the wetness waiting for him. She shivered under his touch, and he knew he could do more. He could have had her, made her scream his name, beg him for more, more than his finger inside her— _Oh God!_ House thought when Cuddy's mouth reached up for his lobe, her tongue dancing around the small bite of flesh that was so special for him, and she knew it. Not only that. She remembered that from years ago, from their special night, and going for that she made clear she did really want to go for the kill.

That was when his rational mind pushed away the part of him who really wanted to let her have what she wanted, and something screamed out loud in his head.

_What about tomorrow? It's going to be awkward, it's going to be awful and she's will regret this. She's going to say it had been a mistake, because she was emotional and you'll have nothing left but a night of sex to remember._

Again. Just a single night to keep dreaming… That was all he needed to find the strength to stop her, to prevent him from doing the same mistake one more time.

He parted from the kiss and grabbed her wrists with both hands, lifting them up so she couldn't touch him anymore. Because if he wanted to be able to deal with her in a rational way, he really needed her to stop touching him.

"You're an idiot!" Well, more or less. "You don't really want this. Not tonight."

"Shut up House. You want this too," she answered back trying to get closer again, but he kept her away from him.

"That doesn't mean this is the right thing to do. You just think you want this because you're emotional tonight-"

"Why do you have to do this?" She hissed at him. "Why do you always have to assume you know what everyone else wants?"

"Because I know you, and you're not this hysterical woman yelling at me and begging for sex!" He screamed back at her. "You're hurt right now. You think this will help you to heal your pain, but you're wrong. Having sex with me could just help you forget about what happened for one night, but tomorrow morning you'll feel even worst."

"I can't believe this. You're really saying no to me?" He couldn't actually believe that either. Cuddy saw his hesitation and kissed him again, but he tightened the grip on her wrists and forced her away, showing her he was determined not to let her do that. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"The real question is what's wrong with you. I'm not going to let you do this, this is not what you need even if you think so. I don't want you to do something you'll regret. You're in pain, and I don't want to be the bitch who can give you some kind of relief tonight, and that tomorrow you'll throw away like a used handkerchief."

House didn't really see it coming, literally. Cuddy raised her hand and slapped him on his face, the sound of the impact screeching loud around them, stopping the world in between those walls. Even if he was the one who had just been hit, that slap seemed to shock Cuddy the most. She stared at him, somewhat scared of what she had just done, trying to remember the last time she had done something like that, scared as hell about what his reaction could be-

"Ok. Now you're feeling any better?"

Cuddy looked at him, realizing with anger that not only he was expecting that, but he had actually pushed her to that point to make her regain control of herself. And knowing that just made her even more mad. But when she lifted her hand to hit him again, he firmly grabbed her wrist without even looking at it, keeping his blue eyes on her and making her legs tremble.

"I'm ok with one," he said, looking straight at her. "I didn't sign for two."

She opened her mouth in to say something, maybe something like _"son of a bitch! Who the hell do you think you are?" _But she couldn't. Lost in his powerful gaze, Cuddy understood all of a sudden that he was right. He had just prevented her from doing a huge mistake, and it hadn't been easy for him at all. Then she remembered the reason he was there. She remembered the little girl she was ready to welcome in her life, who had been taken away from her. She realized House had come there for her, she realized what she had been about to do, to herself and to him-

Tears started to flow from her eyes, she thought she had none left after that night and yet… It must have been a lie, because her body began to shake and tremble when the cry took control. She was well aware of House staring at her crying, but she didn't care. She wasn't ashamed of him watching her so messed up, because he was the one who had being responsible for this, and for once in their lives it wasn't a bad thing.

House was shocked. He had expected to see her cry, but to witness was so painful he could hardly stand it. He cursed himself for not knowing what to do. He wanted to touch her, to tell her something and hug her to let her cry on him, but he didn't dare doing anything.

"Why?" She managed to ask between tears and sobs. "Why do you always have to be right about everything? Why do you always feel the need to fix everything, and tell people what they're hiding from themselves?" She yelled at him, with furious anger. "Why can't you just let me do my mistakes?" She screamed again, lifting her clenched fists and hitting him up on his chest, insulting and beating him like a punching ball.

House let her do what she wanted, he didn't really know what to do himself. But suddenly she stopped yelling and hitting, resting her forehead and the palm of her hands on his chest, crying with her face lost in his leather jacket. Just then, House dared to embrace her. Slowly, one hand on her back and the other one lost in her hair, feeling her body finally relaxing in his arms while she continued to cry her last tears.

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CHAPTER 2: "DEAD END'S IRONY"


	3. Dead End Irony

_Thank you all for your kind reviews. I have a special connection with this story, hopefully it will find a way to readers as well. We left House and Cuddy in a peculiar situation: how will they get over what just happened?_

_To Avery: why don't you contact me via private message? Good to "see" you here._

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CHAPTER 2

"DEAD END IRONY"

He felt useless.

Cuddy was clinging on him for her dear life, yet he felt he could have been a tree in the middle of a windy meadow, because he was doing nothing but let her cry all over him. While her tears and soft sobs ran out, House eventually became aware of the situation. Her clothes were all messed up, his pants unbuttoned and his boxers on their way down. What could have happened between them, what was about to… The reality of it all hit him at full force. Moreover, for the first time in years, he felt completely unease with her.

Cuddy felt his arms around her freeze, his entire body tensing for the embarrassment of the situation, and his discomfort became hers.

Doing her best to smile, she took a step back from him. House immediately let her go, and showed a sudden interest for the painting on the wall behind her to avoid her gaze. She felt she was blushing even if she had no idea why and looked down at her own hands, her fingers nervously entangled with each other, then took a deep breath and spoke. Actually, she barely whispered. House only caught the word water, and watched her walk into the kitchen. His mind raced, trying to figure out what he should do. Should he follow her? Was he supposed to say something, to ask for something to drink too? Did he do something wrong? Was that her way to give him the chance to leave, without saying or claiming for any other words? Could there possibly be something he could have said? Go away...was that the right thing to do? Was that what she wanted? What he wanted?

_Whatever you pick, you better zip up your pants first, _a little voice warned him. House looked at himself and quickly readjust his clothes, just in time to see Cuddy disappear into the living room with two glasses of water and.

He hesitated a few minutes, knowing he was supposed to join her but still ignoring how to deal with that. House gave himself some time before parting from the wall, and then he hesitantly poked his head in the living room, only to find her sitting on the couch. Cuddy turned toward him and stretched her hand to give him the other glass; House nodded slightly and joined her on the couch. They sat next to each other, sharing a long and embarrassing silence that made House's hands starving to have one of his guitars to strum and ease his the tension. He hated that, feeling unease with her. The more he thought about that, the less he could remember another moment in the last 20 years he had desired nothing else but running away from her.

Trying to move less the he could, he caught a glimpse of her face. She had done crying, her eyes were still red and tired but apart from that she seemed to be ok. The usual strong and confident Lisa Cuddy, always ready to fight him about everything. But that night she couldn't, she wasn't strong enough and he didn't even want her to be. It was too late for that, and that knowledge helped him to find the right words.

"I'm sorry."

He said those few words without even warning himself, his voice barely a whisper, but she heard him loud and clear. And she didn't know how to react. She had known House for years, but the times she have heard him apologize, truly and bluntly like he had just done-

Cuddy finished the water and laid back on the couch, watching him still bent forward with his arms on his knees.

"Why?" She asked staring at his back. "Because you didn't mean the things you said?"

"Actually, I'm sorry because I did mean them."

Cuddy didn't know why but she smiled.

"Which one exactly?"

He exhaled deeply and turned toward her, just sending her a quick look. Then looked down at his own hands holding the glass, staring at it as if he had never seen one in his life.

"Pick what you want," he shrugged. "I've said so many awful things to you, I'm sure you'll find out something I need to apologize for."

Truth have always been a strange thing for her to deal with, to understand. It was supposed to be a good thing, but it wasn't always like that. Especially when it came from House because damn, that man knew how to use that powerful weapon. Frustrated, Cuddy closed her eyes and took a deep breath trying to fight back a sudden wave of anger, then folded her arms and shook her head.

"I don't even know if I can hate you," she blurted out. House caught a little trace of sarcasm, and clang on that to ignore the -hate- part of her sentence. "How can you always do this...saying the right thing, at the right moment...in the worst possible way?"

House chuckled and put the glass down, then leaned back on the couch and tried to relax, wondering if and how they could get over the tension. A weird epiphany took him, all of sudden he thought maybe since physical contact had led them to that point, it could also be the way to help them out. Knowing it was a bold move, House moved closer to her and lifted his left arm around her shoulder, gently pulling her into him. Confident, yet holding his breath, he glanced at Cuddy waiting for her reaction. But Cuddy just sighed and abandoned her body to his touch, she leaned down on him resting her head on his shoulders, then he placed his left hand on her arm and tried to focus on everything but her perfume.

Silence took control of the situation, but it was better than the huge sense of discomfort they had before and now that he was touching her, House could tell she wasn't tensed any more. He relaxed too, she smiled feeling her head going up and down along with his chest, but all of sudden he felt her body trembling and shaking. He panicked, but before he could worry about anything she burst in a laugh. Cuddy laughed in an uncontrolled way for almost a minute, scaring House because he really had no idea what was going on with her.

"I can't believe you stopped me!"

She finally managed to say when the laughing calmed down, trying to catch her breath and wiping her tears away. House rolled his eyes at her but smiled to himself, which was the last push to get rid of the tension.

"Neither can I," he grumbled. "Can we please pretend this never happened?"

"You really think I want someone to know?" She smirked and House chuckled, wondering if someone would have actually believed it.

For the next 30 minutes nothing happened, they didn't say a word. House kept his left arm around her, staring blankly at the empty fireplace in front of him, his hand absently caressing her arm. He barely realized his fingers were sliding on her, slowly up and down. He was so lost in his own movements he didn't notice when she moved her head down, resting her cheek on his chest and gently wrapping her left arm around him.

He didn't notice and she didn't mind him touching her that way, because it just felt good.

So painfully right.

"Why?" House asked in the silence battling against his own fear. "Why this can't be?"

Cuddy's body reacted instinctively clenching her arm around him, for not even a second. She closed her eyes, trying to fight back a wave of painful emotions, and bit at her bottom lip.

"Because we're both stubborn, strong, proud, confident. We need games and we hate to lose, we need to be in control... I don't know if it's true that opposites attract each other, but sure we're like two negative poles designed to push each other away."

House closed his eyes, still caressing her. He knew that was the answer, but hearing her voice, so full of pain and regret, saying that out loud was more than what he could stand. Her words seemed to change the silence between them, turning it into something too heavy to stand. But it felt so ok, holding into each other arms that way-

"Can you please say something," she started to say. "Something funny and sarcastic, so I can kick your ass out of here?"

House laughed and moved his hand away from her.

"Thank God is my ass the one that needs to be kicked out. Yours is too big to get rid of for my bum leg."

Cuddy's voice exploded on a huge laugh that shook her whole body, and she stood up smiling down at him.

"At least I can take care of my ass on my own," she said when he stood up, walking toward the hallway to reach the door.

Cuddy followed him but stopped on the living room door, watching his back going away. House tried to ignore their joint smells that were still filling the space between the walls and opened the door, unable to decide if he was supposed to say something. Then he just turned back, and saw her standing away from him. Their eyes met, and if there was something right to say in that moment they both hoped each other's gaze could do the talking.

House nodded and she did back, and then he left. Cuddy waited until she heard the engine of his bike roar and fading in the night, then she went back to living room. She sat on the couch, her eyes longing at the spot he had occupied, her hand absently caressing the cosy warmth he had left on the sofa.

**CHAPTER 3 "THE HOOKER"**

**Just a little side note, but very important: some people know thix story already, feel free to read and comment again but please do nof write any "spoiler". It would just ruin it for others. Thanks**


	4. The Hooker

_Thank to everybody for reading and reviewing! Hope you'll find the rest interesting. One little side note: this story have been posted somewhere else before, so some of you might have read it already. Please just be careful in the comments, not to give things away. Many thanks!_

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CHAPTER 3

"THE HOOKER"

"No," Wilson hissed between his teeth, walking down the hallway. "No, no, no, no, no, no," he kept repeating to himself at every step, until he swung the door open. "No!"

He shouted again, this time right on House face. He looked at the oncologist, puzzled, wondering how stupid he looked standing there with that cup of coffee in his hand. And without a clue on what his friend was talking about.

"No, what?" He asked then, stepping inside the apartment.

"No whatever!"

"I pushed back," House blurted out in one short breath. "I pushed back…a hooker."  
It sounded more like a question, especially because of the way he said the last word. But it sounded too weird for him, and Wilson thought maybe he was just tired and dismissed the idea. The one thing he really cared about, was the reason that apparently was about to deprive him of a night of sleep.

"You woke me up in the middle of the night, to talk about a hooker?" He inquired, incredulous.

House stared blankly at him, as if he really couldn't see the point. Wilson was still keeping the door open, willing to show him he wasn't in the mood for a night chat. But all House did, was stretch the hand holding the cup toward him.

"I brought coffee."

Wilson rolled his eyes and puffed loudly, then looked closely at his friend. His face was pale, his eyes darting around the space to avoid looking straight at him, and Wilson decided whatever had brought him there, was worth to be listened. The oncologist finally closed the door and House lowered his head, looking at him hesitantly.

"She was…a special one," he jabbered in a low voice.

Wilson stepped toward him, alarmed by his doubtful behaviour, and studied his friend's face.

"You found out," he dared to ask, "when things were about to get interesting?"

Wilson was trying to joke, mostly because he could feel the tension weighting on his friend. Then House tilted his head and showed his face, and Wilson immediately knew something big was going on. He looked strange, almost confused, and scared as hell. And hurt, more than anything, with regret written all over his tired face, as if he had just lost something-

"Oh my God!" Wilson shouted all of sudden and House sighed, relieved his friend seemed to have gotten the point. "This special hooker…did she happen to be a smart, funny brunette?" House nodded, and Wilson stretched his hand toward him shaking his head. "Give me the coffee."

House smirked at his reaction and gave him the cup, then Wilson dropped on the couch and House sat on the coffee table. Wilson studied him for a while, bouncing his cane on the floor, and for a second he debated with himself whether he should have gone further or not. But it was 2.00 AM in the morning, clearly House have pushed himself to come to him and, quite frankly, Wilson thought he'd never be able to let go at that moment.

"Are you serious?" House nodded again, not looking at him. "Listen House, I'm not sure I want to hear-"

"And I'm not sure I want to tell you. We're even," he quickly glanced at Wilson. "Don't waste this, Wilson."

Wilson shook his head and sighed, bending down on his knees looking for the courage he needed to carry on with that conversation. Of course he wanted to know, but on the other hand he felt he was about to venture in a dangerous territory.

"Did she really want to-"

"Oh yes."

"Any chance you've mistaken-"

"Pretty sure I got the message, when she went for the third leg. And no, of course I don't mean my cane."

"I hope you realize she's gonna kill you if she finds out you told me."

"And she's gonna kill you if she finds out you know," House stated. "So if you keep your mouth shut for once, we're all safe."

Wilson nodded and smiled a little.

"What happened exactly?"

House used to hate Wilson's curiosity, but he had been the one looking for him that night and there was no point holding back. He took a deep breath and quickly told him everything. Well, only what he needed to know to get the picture. They kissed, he was on his way out and she had jumped on him, but he had pushed her back and he had left. No point in telling Wilson about their weird conversation, not untill he would have been able to find some sense on it on his own.

When he finished his story, Wilson nodded and stretched his legs on the table.

"Hum," he babbled finishing the coffee. "Interesting."

"Interesting?" He blurted. "Is that all you have to say?"

"What?" Wilson asked enlarging his arms. "You say that all the time. And this is indeed interesting."

"No it's not. It's just-"

"Something big enough to force you to drag you ass here, in the middle of the night? Bringing me coffee, and telling me something you usually would have kept for yourself till the day you die?" The oncologist blurted out, quite amused by House's incredulous face, "House, no matter what you're saying to yourself, this matters to you."

"Sure it matters," he tried to deflect with a grin. "I just gave up on a chance to get extremely laid for free. I need to know if I'm going crazy-"

"You were not there to get laid, that's the point," Wilson stated matter of fatly. He had been woke up in the middle of the night, and he had no intention to let him off the hook that easily. "You were there because you knew she needed someone to comfort her."

"I don't comfort people."

"Yes House you do," the oncologist asserted standing up and stepping close to him. "In that twisted way of yours you care and yes, yours might not be the straightest and easiest way but do you comfort people. I know you don't like it, you don't understand it now and it bugs you, but you better face it. Because what happened will have consequences, and you better be ready for them."

House glared at him and took a Vicodin, then dropped himself on the couch.

"I told you, nothing happened."

"Oh yes, this is semantic right?" Wilson chuckled. "Ok, so what didn't happen will have consequences. Because the reason that brought you there tonight-"

"The reason why I was there, is the reason why we can't be," House said flatly, in a sad and resolute voice. "She wants a kid, more than anything else. She had tried more than once, in every possible way. And even if she said she gives up, I bet she'll try again if she'll have to chance. I'll never be the kind of man who can give her what she wants. I don't even think she needs that, so why bother? You've seen how I've reacted... Of course I did that on purpose!" He admitted, answering to Wilson disappointed glare when he remembered how mean he had been with Cuddy over the last days. "I didn't want anything or anybody to intrude in what we had."

Wilson sighed and sat on the couch next to him.

"You two had nothing, House."

"Well it was a meaningful nothing," he said frustrated, facing Wilson's idiocy. "An important and powerful nothing. And I want it back."

Wilson rolled his eyes. On one hand, he could understand how much that situation was affecting House, but it was somewhat entertaining. House was a rational man, the quest of his life was to find reasons and motives for everything. No matter how hard he was trying to convince Wilson and himself, House knew for better or for worse things risked to never be the same between him and Cuddy. He hoped for the best, but knowing them he would have gone for the worst.

"Stop that Wilson," House said, all of sudden standing up again.

"What?"

"Thinking about a way to put the two of us together," he blurted. "You suck as match maker, and the world is not ready for something like this."

"Wait a minute House!" The oncologist protested, standing up too. "You came here, in the middle of the night, to tell me something hat will give me the worst nightmare I've ever had since Amber's death. Not just that, I know we'll never talk about again anymore. Not to mention you'll act like nothing had ever happened. So yes, I want to drag out of you all I can now, at least untill you admit you two care-"

"I don't care for her," House was trying to say, more to convince himself, but his friend laughed loud.

"Sure you don't!" He said then. "I'm sure you drove to her place, in the worst day of her life, just to mock her. I have news for you...yeah, sometimes I know things you do ignore," he shot at House, who rolled his eyes at him trying to hide his puzzled expression. "I asked her if she needed a drive home, I offered to spend some time with her, but she lied and told me she was ok. She didn't cry, she didn't even look tired, she just waited for me to leave her alone. She practically kicked me out with her silence. And when you, the harshest and most insensitive selfish human being on earth, show up at her place she lets you in. She lets you talk, and most importantly she listens to you, she allows you to see her sadness-"

House averted his eyes from Wilson and lowered his head, his mouth slightly open. His puzzled look told his friends he did have a point, and most of all that told Wilson House hadn't been able to figure that out on his own. He hadn't even thought about that-

"Oh!" Wilson exclaimed when he finally came up to decipher his friend's expression. "Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh!" He said again, in his best Santa Claus's laugh. "How funny is that? The brilliant doctor House, missing something like this?" House found the strength to look at him .trying to recover as quickly as he could. "You mean something for Cuddy, House-"

"And Angelina Jolie means something to my groin, so what?"

Wilson opened his mouth but then stopped. He wasn't willing to give him the easy way out of deflection, he knew what seemed to be a resource for House was actually the worst way he could have chosen to face that.

"I hope," Wilson finally sighed, resigned. "You're just refusing what it might be, because you're too stubborn and proud to admit it. Or too scared to have something good, someone in your life other than yourself," he enlarged his arms and shook his head. "'Because either that, or I honestly have no idea why you're wasting this."

Some minutes later, climbing back on his bike, House cursed himself. Despite his effort, he haven't been able to find the shadow of an answer for Wilson.

* * *

CHAPTER 4 "BULL IN A CHINA SHOP",

.


	5. Bull in a China shop

CHAPTER 4

"BULL IN A CHINA SHOP"

When Lisa Cuddy walked inside PPTH the morning after, the hospital floor became the most interesting thing in the world. Every time a nurse or a doctor met her eyes, they paid attention to their own feet as quick as they could.

Cuddy raised her head, tilting her chin up proudly, and walked across the hall heading straight to the acceptation desk. She could sense everybody's eyes on her, but nobody dared to face her. That hurt her more than the events of the day before. It wasn't about being proud, she simply couldn't stand that bunch of cowards, because they all seemed to think ignoring what have happened was the best way to help her.

"Good morning Jenny," Cuddy said to the nurse behind the desk, smiling as usual.

The woman looked up, her eyes met the dean of medicine's ones for just a second but she quickly addressed her attention to the computer, pretending to be busy.

"Good morning doctor Cuddy," Jenny mumbled. "I left the messages in your office."

_Because I hoped I could avoid talking to you this morning,_ the nurse added in her mind, trying to ignore Dr. Cuddy's eyes planted on the back of her neck. Cuddy stared at her for some more silent seconds, well aware of what everybody around them was thinking.

Poor doctor Cuddy.

But she didn't need pity. It was painful, and most of all useless for someone willing to move on. People who couldn't sustain her gaze, would have never been able to help her.

* * *

"What are you doing here?"

She have tried to ignore him, but the imposing and limping presence of Gregory House was hard to dismiss. Especially when he was sucking his milkshake with a straw. House stopped for a second to stare at Cameron, and smirked. She always amused him when she used her "I'm in charge here" tone, trying to sound authoritative.

"Hunting," he said, darting the crowded ER with his eyes. "I'm looking for my patient."

"You've lost you patient again?"

"Nope. I don't have one, so I have to dig my hands in my secret stash," Cameron signed a file and gave him a disappointed look, but he just shrugged. "What? I am just trying to avoid clinic duty, as usual."

"There's nothing here for you today, so why don't you- Can you please at least try to be less noisy?" She demanded frustrated, when he went back on his loud ministration on the milkshake.

"I could," he confessed. "But then I wouldn't annoy you enough."

Cameron rolled her eyes at him and was about to say something, but then she spotted something behind House and stiffened. House frowned, confused when the woman dropped any attempt of conversation and quickly lowered her head going back to work.

"If you want to stay away from the clinic you better hide," she whispered examining her patient. "Cuddy's here."

For the first time in about one hour, House moved away from the wall and poked his head around the corner, seeing Cuddy standing near the elevator talking to a doctor. To be honest, she was talking and he was listening. For one moment, House thought she was scolding him, But then remembered Cameron's reaction when she had seen the dean of medicine and he smirked, disgusted.

She was there to do nothing but her job, and she was doing that as usual, spreading self-confidence and kicking ass, completely in control of her proverbial strength. However, everybody was treating her as if she was made of glass, and he hated that. Cuddy was there to do what she was supposed to do, even the day after... Anybody else, in the same situation, would have asked for a day off. She could have done the same, yet she haven't.

The problem was, nobody was smart enough to understand she didn't need pity. Nobody could see that staring at her, with sad and shy eyes, was as useful as air-conditioning at the South Pole.

The conversation was over, the man clearly couldn't wait but being dismissed and when she finally did he ran away. Even from that distance, with a room full of doctors yelling orders and sick people screaming, House could catch the frustrated sigh escaping Cuddy's lips when she closed her eyes. He could tell what she was thinking: she was just hoping the outbreak of pity could end soon.

Then the spell stroke again. Her pager went off and Cuddy took it in a second, eager to find something to keep herself busy. Now fully operative, she turned on her heels and called the elevator. House saw in her eyes a huge sadness, but he knew it wasn't the same one of the night before. He had been there, he had seen that one, he have held it in his arms and he knew for sure they were different.

He had done really little for the previous one, but sure he could do something for that morning.

He took some more minutes to study ER's fauna, then an evil grin appeared on his face.

"To search is to find," House grumbled, then took the straw in his teeth, tossed the paper glass and limped toward his plan.

* * *

It was funny, and also weird. That late morning the hallway of the fourth floor of PPTH was hosting a curios and peculiar show; four young doctors, literally running after a cripple middle-aged man who was holding a blue folder on his left hand.

"House! House wait!"

House didn't even turned back and reached the elevator, purposely ignoring Foreman's yelling behind him, and he pushed the button.

"We can't ask Cuddy about this-"

"I'm not asking," he pointed out, killing Taub's sentence. "I don't need her consult, just the authorization."

"This isn't like requesting an MRI," 13 stated, her voice extremely worried.

"Good think it's not!" House scoffed. "I couldn't work anymore if I'd need her ok for everything."

Foreman was about to say he actually did need her approval, but that wasn't really the right moment. The elevator opened, and they all found Wilson inside the cabin. House grumbled something between his teeth, Wilson was not the companion he'd wished for that trip, but he stepped inside with him.

"Wilson, stop him."

Even without knowing what was going on, the urge on Foreman's voice was enough. The oncologist tried to fight back House, placing his body on his friend's way.

"What's going on House?" He asked.

"I am just trying to do my job and save my patient's life. Well two actually, one of them in the long-term. Maybe."

The oncologist studied him, extremely confused, and quickly stole the folder from his hand. House could not avoid that, but took advantage of it anyway. As soon as Wilson started to read, he shoved him inside the elevator and followed him, pushing the button for the ground floor. Once inside, the oncologist looked up at him with a shocked face.

"Please tell me you're not going to Cuddy with this one," House nodded. "Are you insane?"

"I need permission," he said simply, and took the folder back.

"House, you can't do this!"

"Stop me," he challenged Wilson, who stretched his hand to the file, but House slammed it with his cane.

"House, please," he begged again massaging his hand. "Please, think about this."

"She's here," he stated serious. "She's able to work, she wants to...pretty sure she needs to. So-"

The doors opened on the ground floor, and House grinned when he saw Cuddy at the reception desk, consulting on some papers with Chase.

"Dr. Cuddy!" He yelled and started limping toward her, holding up the folder like a trophy, aware of the fact everybody was looking at him.

Cuddy's breath got caught in her throat. She looked at him, and knew by the light up in his eyes and his evil grin he was planning something. A feeling sadly confirmed a few seconds later, when the second elevator vomited out his entire team in full panic mode.

"I need your bossy administrative skills," House said again cheerfully, his powerful voice too loud not to be intentional. "35 years old female, drug addict, she's so full of opiates I blush in comparison. She's also 8 and half months pregnant, a bomb ticking inside her with undeveloped lungs."

That was when PPTH busy and noisy life froze.

Silence came down in the hall like a sudden summer storm. Nobody dared to speak or even breathe, but House could feel the hate of 100 people cursing him at the very same time. He enjoyed the sensation to be the most hated man on earth for a while, then approached Cuddy and shoved the open file under her eyes.

"I'd suggest waiting for the birth, and let the little kamikaze die since clearly this woman didn't care enough to give up on drugs during pregnancy. But I have a bunch of sissies in my team, and they still believe in fairy tales. They believe the patient when she claims she wants the spawn, and they're sure we have to do anything we can to save them both."

Someone grunted something behind him, a pen dropped on the floor and more than one loud sigh was heard around them. Cuddy stared at him, right in his eyes. He was still smiling provokingly, but she saw something different in the way his lips curled up when she took the folder and read it.

The silence around them was unreal, but for House and Cuddy that could have been the crowded and noisy dance floor of a nightclub, and they would have still felt as if they were on their own. Cuddy was reading the folder, at the same thinking how weird it was everybody was living the silence they've created as something embarrassing, while she and House were both completely at ease with that.

Smiling victoriously, Cuddy closed the folder and gave it back to House, paying attention everybody was listening.

"Explain her the kid has 90% of possibilities to die if she gives birth now, and make her sign the informed consent. If she signs, call the social services to take it from here, since she doesn't care about the child. If she doesn't, it really looks like she wants the baby and you better do the best you can to save them both," he opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off. "Next time you're so desperate to steal a patient from the ER, at least pick one that really needs your outrageous well paid skills."

That said, she gave him her back and started to walk toward her office, feeling just House's eyes and nobody else following her. She was almost at the door when House picked up the folder and moved a first step to the elevator, then she stopped and without looking at him again spoke loud enough so everybody could hear her.

"And keep your ass down here. You still owe me 5 hours of clinic today."

House watched her entering her office, doing his best to drop the moron smile from his face. Then called Foreman, gave him the folder and told him to follow Cuddy's directions. A few minutes later, receiving the first folder from Nurse Jenny, he didn't fail to notice the huge grin on her face. "The boss is back", she seemed to be saying to him.

The point was, House thought opening the door of exam room 2, the boss have never gone anywhere.

Five hours of sick people later, House was in his office picking up his stuff before going home. He just needed to take his helmet and the jacket, and he grabbed them from the long chair. Two doctors were waiting for the elevator at the end of the hallway, but when they spotted him they nodded to each other and walked away. House snorted and smiled amused, using the tip of his cane to push the button, enjoying the silence of the elevator. When he reached the ground floor and stepped outside, the hall was almost empty. But soon he felt a familiar sensation weigh on him. Turning his head on his left, he met Cuddy's eyes spotting him from the clinic's doors.

She had her coat on, her suitcase in her hand, a bright green scarf wrapped around her neck. House thought she looked exhausted, but relieved at the same time. Her fatigue was a good sign, it meant her world made of phone calls, meetings and whatever have started to spin around her again.

He realized he was staring at her, but she was doing the same, erasing the distance between them with her eyes. They were almost 20 feet away, but he caught the light smile on her face. He felt his lips reacting in the same way, but they stopped abruptly when a nurse approached her. Cuddy shook her head and focused on the woman who was handling her a file, and when she lifted her eyes again he was gone. She sighed but then found him again, next to the door, ready to step outside. He was looking at her, trying to look behind the nurse who was still talking to her. Cuddy wanted so bad to get rid of her and reach the door, reach him and tell him something, but she was keeping her there-

It was just a second, maybe not even that. The nurse lowered her gaze for a moment to check something on the folder, Cuddy turned to look at House who was still waiting on the door, regardless of the doctors staring at him with hate, and she smiled quickly. House caught the smile, it was all he was waiting for, then he nodded back and stepped outside.

* * *

**CHAPTER 5 "WHEN YOU SAY NOTHING AT ALL"**


	6. When you say nothing at all

_Thanks again to all, it's good to see some interest for this story. House and Cuddy managed to get over the "incident" of the kiss, but things are never as easy as we wish._

_Hope this chapter is not confusing. It has a peculiar construction: I like the way it works out, but I know it can be a little hard to follow. You will let me know!_

* * *

CHAPTER 5

"WHEN YOU SAY NOTHING AT ALL"

The morning after, nobody was commiserating the "poor doctor Cuddy" anymore. On the other hand, everybody was complaining about the "cranky House doctor", who was doing his best to make her life miserable.

House stepped inside the hospital rubbing his right leg, which have bothered him since from when he woke up. He was still thinking about that, cursing himself falling asleep on the couch when he knew that hurt him every time, and the pain was enough not to notice tension around him. It was the same atmosphere of hate he have created the day before, and it was still there permeating PPTH's walls. The nurse at the reception shoot him a look, slamming his messages on the desk with a loud grunt. House couldn't care less about that, if anything he was flattered he have succeeded on his plan that easily.

Grinning widely to the nurse, he picked up his messages and put them on the pocket of his jacket, then bent down on the desk.

"You know," he whispered. "You should really take that broom out of you ass and give it back to Blue, or he'll never be able to clean up the floor," the woman's eyes grew wide in shock, but House went on. "A guy with IQ like his can't really hope to find a job easier than this."

He just had the time to pronounce the last word, that a hot wave of coffee hit his face. He closed his eyes, but still felt the liquid running down on his mouth and chin, wetting the collarbone of his jacket and shirt. When he opened his eyes again, the nurse was staring at him smiling, but House grinned back and slowly licked the coffee away from his lips.

"You better stop providing for my morning coffee in such a sweet way," House smirked picking up his helmet and heading to the elevators, turning back to yell at her. "I wouldn't want people to think you have the hots for me or something."

He didn't let her the time to answer, and he turned around when he heard the elevator doors opening. He moved forward to step inside and pushed the button for his floor, but before the doors closed again, Cuddy stepped inside the cabin. She barely had the time to realize House was there, trying to decide if it was a good or a bad thing, when Wilson's voice asked to keep the door open for him. She glanced at House, he rolled his eyes and puffed but used his cane to keep the door open. Caught in the moment, Cuddy stood a half step behind him, making room for the oncologist. Wilson stepped inside holding a cup of coffee on his hand, he spotted his two friends in the small cabin, looking everywhere but at each other. And when the doors closed behind him, he felt like a prisoner who have just heard the sliding door of his cell closing on the beginning of a long life in jail.

_I so wished I waited for the other elevator!_ Wilson thought, smiling slightly to both of them.

_What the hell is he doing here?_ House grumbled in his mind.

_Wilson Damn!_ She thought, stepping away to make room for Wilson between her and House. _Couldn't you pick the next one?_

_They're not talking... Of course they're not, she must be pissed_, Wilson turned slightly to Cuddy, in that moment focused on her bracelet. _Or maybe she's not. I mean, _he turned toward House, busy with a scratch on the visor of his helmet. _It's frustrating to admit that, but he's usually right with this kind of stuff._

_Jesus Wilson!_ House thought, catching the thoughtful expression of his friend with the corner of his eyes ._Stop wondering, stop worrying. Everything is fine._

_-She didn't seem that upset yesterday after all, she looks even better today. Maybe she really needed that-_

_I just want to thank him, why should this be so difficult? _Cuddy questioned herself looking at the back of House's head.

_We were all so tensed and nervous around her, worried to say the wrong thing. I've tried to talk to her the whole day, but I never came up with something appropriate-_

_He's nervous, when he taps the cane on the floor like that he always is. And he's rubbing his leg too... Maybe I can call him in the clinic later, ask him about the pain. And once he's there, thank him for_ _yesterday, _Cuddy wondered, her eyes glued to the ground.

_Should I ask her how's she's doing? Well, of course,_ House thought glancing at Wilson. _Not with the feelings mastiff right here right now!_

- _Because she seemed to be fine after House's little show, and everybody treated her as usual,_ Wilson shoot House an evil look. _Shit! Why he has to be always right? It's so annoying!_

_What if he doesn't want me to thank him?_ Cuddy asked to herself, biting at her bottom lip. _He's House after all. He will deflect and mock me, to hide the fact he did something nice for me._

_Like I could have the courage to say anything, even without Wilson around,_ House admitted in his mind. _Geez, I was terrified when she stepped in. I have no idea what I could have done._

_Is it just me, or this elevator is hot like hell? _The oncologist wondered taking a sip of coffee. _Man, the tension is killing me! How can they deal with this?_

_But she got what I wanted to do yesterday. At least I think so, she smiled, she was ok- Oh no Wilson!_ House's eyes opened wide when he saw his friend opening his mouth. _Don't you dare say a word. I swear,_ he paid all the attention he could to give his friend a warning look. _If something about the other night slips out of your mouth, you're going to need a surgery to remove my helmet out of your-_

_Maybe I can send him a text... Oh c'mon no, that's so immature! He would mock me until the end of the world._

_Thank God, he was just drinking! Good for him_, House sighed relieved, glancing at Wilson.

_Wow, that look really gave me shivers!_ Wilson drank again and took a moment to smell the cup. _Why does my coffee smell like rum this morning?_

_Jesus Wilson, what the hell are you drinking?_ Cuddy wondered when her nose was assaulted by a nasty smell of coffee mixed with something she couldn't identify.

House lowered his head and smelled the collarbone of his jacket, then smiled to himself.

_I wonder what Cuddy would say, if she knew her precious nurse spices up their morning coffee with alcohol, _he thought with a grin. _Well, that explains a lot._

_This chai latte smells weird._ _I guess I'll stick with normal coffee tomorrow, _Wilson decided staring at the cup in his hand, then sighed. _Why is this elevator so slow today?_

House lifted up his chin to look at the bright numbers.

_God, I've never desired so much not be a cripple so I could have taken the stairs!_

_Damn, I'll never regret so much not have taken the stairs! _Wilson cursed himself.  
Cuddy imitated the two men and sighed slightly, when the elevator stopped on the fourth floor.

_Oh my God yes!_ She celebrated silently in her mind, _I think I'll never use the elevator again!_

When the doors opened, the three of them all sighed loudly. Wilson jumped out first and quickly ran away, hiding in his office. House smiled at his run away, but his grin faded when he met Cuddy's eyes. She looked lost, like some big chance have just slipped through her fingers. House couldn't understand that look, although he felt pretty much the same. Especially a moment later, when the door closed again and he realized something other than Cuddy have just gone.

* * *

CHAPTER 6 "DANCING QUEEN"


	7. Dancing queen

_Just a short one, to remind this is not just about House and Cuddy._

* * *

CHAPTER 6

"DANCING QUEEN"

He closed the door behind his back, loudly yawning at the dark living room. Closing his tired eyes, he caressed his forehead, using just his feet to get rid of his shoes. He left them at the door, took his jacket off and tossed it on the couch, heading straight to his bedroom, where he jumped on the mattress still dressed.

Blowing a sigh on the pillow he closed his eyes, giving the tensed muscles of his back the time they needed to relax. Then he rolled on his back and exhaled deeply, staring at the ceiling. He turned on his right glancing at the clock on his nightstand, and couldn't help but roll his eyes realizing it was 2 am.

Again.

Not only it was late and he had to wake up early, but that was the third night in a row. And he knew no matter how tired he could be, sleep was far away to come and take him down.

Grunting, Wilson closed his eyes, muttering a goodnight curse to his two friends. Those two idiots were driving him crazy, making him spin around like a freaking dancer. Maybe Cuddy wasn't doing that on purpose, but House was well aware he was forcing him to stay on his tiptoes every moment. Since the night House have told him they've kissed, a strange ballet have been settled up: but instead of having them dealing with that on their own, Wilson found himself forced to dance along with them.

House needed him. Of course, that asshole would have never admitted that but yes, he needed him. Because he knew about that night, what have happened and what hadn't. Because with him, House could pretend none of that was there for real. They knew there was something, but the fact the subject was forbidden put House in a safe place. Wilson knew the reason behind every time he became more abrasive than usual, even though House kept denying. And in House's twisted and self-centred world, it meant he could be his spy, his unauthorized voyeur keeping eyes and ears open...for something that he was absolutely forbidden to talk about. House needed him to be sure no matter what, the events of that night hadn't left any trace behind, no footsteps and clues the world around them could have noticed.

And everything was indeed going on as usual.

World was still the same, spinning on the right direction. PPTH was going on as usual, unaware the most shocking and biggest event in his history have happened. House was still the asshole, and Cuddy the only dean of medicine able to keep him on the line.

Wilson opened his eyes, thinking being tired wasn't an excuse to sleep dressed. He stood up and got rid of his clothes, his mind still wondering. He didn't know if he had to admire them, being mad at them or being sad for them. They've had a chance, they still did, but instead of taking it they were going down that spiral. Dragging him along with them.

He put on his pyjamas and went into the bathroom to brush his teeth. The man he saw in the mirror was tired, he smirked at his own face and took the toothbrush, making a mental note to himself to take a shower the morning after, and that it was about time to call his hairdresser.

Cuddy needed him too, that was the point. As much as he knew why she was scared to bring up the topic with him, all he could do was comforting her when she pretended the loss of Joy wasn't the only thing making her sad. And pretend not to notice the subtle way she kept asking him about House. She was never the one coming to him, Wilson just knew he had to show up at the clinic, or adjusting his timing so he could casually run into her, and give her the chance to talk if she wanted. Mentally, it was beyond frustrating. And House wasn't really easier to deal with since he dragged him out every night. Bowling, poker...somehow he have managed to turn the striptease club idea into a horror movie marathon, assuring House all the movies would have had moron women running away from the killer, and bouncing their fun bags at camera's benefit.

House was draining his physical energies not to deal with that, and Cuddy was drying up his emotional resources for the same reasons.

The worst part, Wilson thought finally wrapping himself on the sheets, was that they both seemed to be ok with that.

With his eyes half closed, he looked at the watch, almost 3 am. Then he closed his eyes, trying not to think about the new day on stage that would have started in about 4 hours.

* * *

CHAPTER 7 "BIG BOY"


	8. Big boy

_It is time to move forward a bit. In their own peculiar way, Cuddy and House made it through the aftermath of the kiss. But live goes on, and new "adventures" await them._

* * *

CHAPTER 7

"BIG BOY"

"House-"

"Not now."

Foreman lifted his eyes from the folder, watching House limping fast close to him and heading to the elevator. The neurologist thought his boss seemed to be in a hurry, maybe even worried, then rolled his eyes and followed him.

"House I need-"

"Not the right moment," he cut him off, stepping inside the elevator and pushing the ground floor button.

Foreman tried again to say something, but House just ignored him. When the doors closed and he was alone, he breathed deeply and took the pager from his belt.

She have paged him. Cuddy have called him, and that was the first time since that night. The first time she was looking for him… He tried to stop his mind from doing any kind of suggestion, after all trying to imagine the reason was useless. But there must have been one, and the elevator didn't seem fast enough. When he stepped outside and walked toward her office, House noticed he was walking too fast according to his leg, therefore he slowed down and finally reached the door of her office. With a sudden grin on his face, he just swung the door open without knocking, rolling his eyes when he found her on the phone. Cuddy looked up at him and put a finger on her closed lips, indicating him to shut up, then pointed at one of the chair.

House smirked, but followed her silent orders. Once seated he started to play with the cane in between his fingers, eyeing her desk covered with papers. Hidden behind a pile of folders, he noticed a donut partly covered with a towel, and his grin widened. He took the tip of the cane in his hand and used the curved handle to move the documents, clearing the way to his prey. Cuddy was focused on her phone call, but not enough to miss the cane hooking the donut and dragging it in House's direction. She looked shocked at House, so focused on his moves that he was biting his tongue, and she slapped the cane away. Her eyes widened, when she saw him ready for a new attack. Still talking on the phone, she covered the donut with one hand and smirked at House, but he hit her with the cane forcing her to remove her hand. Cuddy glanced at him, appalled as he stuck his tongue at her hooking the donut again. But right when he thought the conquest was done, she grabbed the donut and threw it In the first drawer, smiling victoriously at him.

House smiled back, she might have won the battle-

Cuddy put the receiver between her shoulder and ear, typing something on the computer. In that position, she couldn't see what House was doing, but heard him rummage with her stuff and had to bite her tongue not to yell him to stop. When she looked at him again, House was holding a pencil between his upper lip and nose, his eyes squeezed trying to move the pencil up and down. Cuddy had to repress a laugh and rolled her eyes, smiling and hoping for everyone's good that call could end soon. Then House took the pencil in his hand and stared at it for a moment, before stacking it in his right nostril. Clearly satisfied, maybe by the sensation or mostly by the outraged look on Cuddy's face, he took another pencil and put it on his left nostril, paying attention she was watching his performance. She was indeed, and she honestly didn't know if she was supposed to laugh or yell, but at least she managed to dismiss the person on the phone. As soon as she hung up, she leaned toward him and quickly grabbed the pencils, removing them from his nose. She didn't even try to be gentle, and slammed the pencils on the desk when she was done.

"Watch out!" House protested, massaging his nose.

"I'm not the one stacking things in inappropriate places."

"Hei," he said offended. "That's show business."

"Yeah well," she answered dismissively, chucking the pencils in the bin. "I'll tell that to the surgeon who will remove the marker out of your ear."

House smirked, glad for that exchange. But soon he felt the silence taking control of the moment, and he knew he had to do something about that.

"So," he puffed nodding at the phone. "Where are you going?"

"Me? Nowhere," she said crossing her legs and resting her hands on her lap, aware of the fact he was referring to the plane and hotel reservation she had just made over the phone. "You, on the other hand, are going Detroit."

It didn't happen often to him, but House was beyond surprised by the news. Cuddy smiled enjoying the view, and absently opened a file, willing to keep him hanging as long as she could.

"We've had a meeting with the hospital PR department this morning- Yes House, we do have one, and people are actually paid for this kind of job," she said, answering to his sceptical expression. "A recent survey said PPTH needs to have more speakers in medical conferences, to improve our position in the national ranking. And this weekend's symposium in Detroit seemed to be a good start," she grinned, House was tensed and they both knew where that path was heading. "And since the conference happens to be about diagnostic, you'll represent PPTH-"

"No way!"

Ignoring his protest, Cuddy picked up the brochure of the conference showing it in House's face.

"You'll join a round table on Saturday morning, and you'll expose the experience of our diagnostic department on Saturday afternoon."

"And Saturday night they'll find me dead in my room, killed by boredom."

"Nope," she corrected him, still reading from the brochure. "Saturday night you'll be at the closing party."

"Can I just go to the party? Trust, I can represent there."

"House drop it, ok?" she cut him off, not willing to play anymore. "This is not something you can negotiate. There's no deal and no offer," Cuddy relaxed on her chair and sighed. "You have to do this."

House opened his mouth to say something but stopped, studying her. There was more, something she didn't want to say, something she didn't want him to know.

"They want me.," he stated, and saw Cuddy clench her jaw. "No way the board would choose me to represent the hospital. I'm a ticking bomb when it comes to social and professional stuff," he grinned at her, and Cuddy could swear she could see his eyes shine. "Detroit wants the famous doctor House."

"Yes House, you're famous. So what?" she admitted, frustrated. "Do I need to book a seat and room for your ego too?"

"No need," he reassured as he stood up. "Those people in Detroit should do their researches better, they should know I don't do this kind of stuff."

"Well, this time you'll do it."

"Why?" he asked enlarging his arms, as to say she wasn't going to stop him.

"Because as weird as it may sounds, there are people willing to listen to you," Cuddy said, browsing a folder and not looking at him. "Whoever haven't had the pleasure to meet you in person I guess-"

She just muttered the last words, but he did hear them well. And for sure that was her goal, because when she looked back at him giving him a piece of paper she had a satisfied sarcastic grin all over on her face.

"Here's the information you need," she explained with a calm voice, considering that a done deal. "Your plane is tomorrow at 4 pm. You better go home, pack something and prepare your speech."

House looked at her for a moment, then stepped toward the desk and took the paper from her hands, not taking his eyes off of her. Then he took a minute to read the information, then looked back at her.

"I'm going on my own?" He asked, half thrilled and half surprised.

"You're a big guy," she confirmed, but he gave her a sceptical look. "We trust you."

"No, you don't."

Cuddy rolled her eyes.

"Yes, you're right, we don't. But you're going alone, no matter what." her face became serious, really serious. And for the first time since he have come down there, House caught the change and his smile faded. "Don't waste this."

* * *

Four stars hotel.

Sauna.

Continental breakfast buffet.

Party with free open bar.

First class flight ticket.

To be convicted to do something he hated, he had to admit that situation had as many perks than disadvantages. Not to mention, he had plenty of tricks up his sleeves to work his way out of that. Who knew, chances were his leg would have started to bother him right in the middle of his speech-

"Sir, your seat is here."

House thanked the steward and gave her his bag, then he dropped on the large seat and closed the blinds. He fastened his belt and put his headphones on, closing his eyes. BB King would have been the perfect soundtrack on the way to Detroit. The music prevented him from being bothered by the usual and disturbing mix of pre take-off sounds, but it was useless when he felt someone sit on the seat next to him. It was hard not to, since his new neighbor seemed unable to stay still, repeatedly pushing his left arm. House endured those epileptic movements for a while, but when his elbow got swept away from the armrest, he grunted and took his headphones away, turning quickly to his left.

"Sorry my arm is in on your way. We can call the steward-"

_And ask if they have a saw so I can chop it off. _That really was what he wanted to say, but he found Cuddy's index right in his face, her nervous and annoyed expression right behind it, and those words disappeared.

"Don't," she warned him, then she closed her eyes and exhaled deeply. "Don't say a word."

House stared at her for a while, registering her fatigue and how pissed off she was. Then he put the headphones back on and turned his head on the right, glad the closed blinds prevented her to catch the reflection of his mischievous grin in the window.

* * *

**CHAPTER 8 "SHARING"**


	9. Sharing

_It looks like there are some expectations for this conference Cuddy and House are attending… I guess you'll have to keep reading to see how thing will going, I think you won't be disappointed, no matter what._

_Once again, thanks again to all readers and reviewers: it makes it so much easier for me to go through a complete editing of this beloved story of mine when receiving feedbacks, so please don't stop!_

* * *

CHAPTER 8

"SHARING"

He have been tempted to mock her, his tongue itching all the time of the flight. However, he have wisely kept whatever it was for himself. It might have been hard to imagine, but House didn't think she wouldn't have taken anything he could say as trying to ease the tension.

Clearly, he thought studying the way she kept drumming her fingers on the reception desk, Cuddy found nothing funny in the fact the board seemed to have a limited faith in him, forcing her to baby sit him for the weekend, as fun as he did. House took the Vicodin bottle and swallowed a pill, watching Cuddy taking care of the check in operation for both, before handling him the key of his room.

They both walked toward the elevators, House checked his key and found out he was on the fifth floor, then looked back at Cuddy.

"Something you want to ask?" She asked, stressed by his inquiring gaze.

"Something you'll answer, if I ask?" He teased, swirling the key of his room around his finger.

Cuddy exhaled deeply and rolled her eyes, already exhausted. However annoyed by the situation, she had to admit it wasn't really House's fault if she was there. He haven't done anything wrong, not yet at least. And it was in order to keep things like that, if she have found herself throwing random things in a bag, pacing her bedroom with the phone stuck between her ear and shoulder to book a flight, in the meantime texting to rearrange her appointments for the next couple of days.

"What happened to the whole "we trust you" thing?"

"Told you, we didn't really mean that," House grinned and leaned with his back on the wall, the idea of being someone unreliable really amused him, and maybe even flattered. "House Listen, I'm not mad at you for this, ok? I just-"

"Why should you be mad at me?" He asked. "I didn't do anything wrong...yet-"

"You may not, but you're the reason why I'm here."

"Instead of doing what?"

He didn't really mean to provoke her, maybe just a bit of harmless teasing and sparring, the way they were used to. Cuddy stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out how simple mocking and real evilness balanced in his words. Then, to her relief, his grin softened a little and that hint of a smile gave him away. Cuddy straightened up and tilted her chin up, looking at him from tip to toe and landing her challenging gaze on him, before smirking and looking in front of her.

"More or less the same as you," she said flatly. "Absolutely nothing."

House took a moment to think about her words, recognizing one of those attacks to his personal life she loved to make. But it was more than that. He couldn't tell how aware of that she was, but she was kind of implying her life, job aside, was just like his one. And, it occurred to him, the kind of life he was used to didn't fit her.

His mind screamed him to say something, not necessarily something serious but at least something to cheer her up, to prove her wrong. But when he opened his mouth, despite his intention to apologize, something different came out.

"Where are you going?"

The elevator was on the fourth floor, but Cuddy stepped outside anyway. She stood in the hallway and turned around, a confused look on her face, and showed him her key.

"Room 415. I was lucky to find this one, which such a short notice. Or I would have had to find another hotel," she looked down at her watch and rubbed her face with one hand. When she removed it, House was stunned to realize how tired she appeared when she didn't need to pretend nothing could affect her. "See you tomorrow morning."

That said Cuddy, gave him her back and took a step down the hallway, looking for her room. House barely let her took the first step, and slammed his cane on the door that was closing again. The noise and the sudden gesture made her wince, but it wasn't that what made her turn around.

"Cuddy."  
It was just her name, the way he usually called her, but there was an urgent need in his voice she wasn't used to. She looked at him, who was now standing half in the elevator and half in the corridor, but missed the first look he have had on his face when he have called her back. The look of a man desperately wanting to say something coming from his heart, but shut down by his brain.

However, when she looked at House, he was more or less the same. Maybe more uncertain and hesitant than usual, but she dismissed the idea saying to herself he was already thinking about the boring day he was about to face. House looked at her, praying he hadn't on his face the weak and puzzled expression he felt, then collect his energies to speak.

"What time does the torture start?"

* * *

"What time does the torture start?" He muttered to himself limping outside the bathroom. "Damn House, you could have come up with something better."

Shocking his head in disapproval of his own lack of spirit, House reached the bag he had tossed on a chair and got a new t-shirt, then sat on the bed. It was almost 11pm, he have eaten and had a long bath, and the only resource he had to keep his mind busy and away from dangerous over thinking, was the good old talking box.

He took the remote and switched on the TV, cursing the lame administrators of Detroit University for having organized the symposium in which seemed to be the cheapest hotel in town. He sailed the channels for a while, disappointed they didn't even have an adult one, but soon got bored and frustrated. He just chose the less horrible option, a cable station broadcasting a Queen concert, and stood up to go on the balcony.

_Like a city as Detroit actually deserves a view,_ he thought with a grin, popping a Vicodin while staring at the city. Still trying to figure out if he was happy or not Cuddy was there.

* * *

She was still trying to figure out how she felt about being there. Moreover, she was struggling to understand if he was happy or not that she was there.

During the flight to Detroit, she have had the impression he wanted to say something but didn't dare to. Knowing House, she was sure his mind have been filled with jokes and remarks, but the fact he have kept his mouth shut… House have never been reluctant to exercise his sarcasm skills, and Cuddy knew most of the time he couldn't help himself.

But he had, and yet a few hours later he haven't had any problem pushing her buttons.

As usual.

Frustrated, Cuddy closed her laptop and took a blanket then walked out on the balcony, glancing at the skyline of the city. She sat down on a chair and wrapped herself in the blanket to fight back the cold air, calling herself a moron when she realized she have missed the chance to finally thank him for having brought back a balance in her universe. She didn't like the way they have become, he might be the one who didn't like change but she was missing the way they were before the loss of Joy. A sad smile appeared on Cuddy's face when she remembered the conversation they've had the day before in her office, the banter, the rhythm, the never-ending chase for the last word-

That was what they had, what they've always had...what they would have always had.

Cuddy closed her eyes, the smile fading on her face. Since she knew they couldn't have more, she just hoped they could take back what they used to have.

* * *

_Time,_ he said to himself leaning down on the balcony. _All we need is time, and things will go back as usual._

_But what if they won't?_

House closed his eyes, the cold air of the night wrapping him, but he didn't shiver.

_What if I don't want things to go back? What if I want more?_

He hated that, being unable to lie to himself. It was stressful, because his own mind was the only one, a part from his mom, he couldn't lie to. Of course he have thought about that, not just after that night and not sure for what Wilson was trying to tell him every time. But it wasn't easy, it was far from being easy and the fact he had feeling-

House heard his cell phone ringing from inside, he limped in and reached for the phone, already grinning when he picked up.

"You're late," he said before Wilson could say a word.

_"Damn, you two already killed each other?"_ The oncologist asked on the other side of the phone, and House smirked.

"I'm impressed," he said lying on the bed. "I thought you would have called me as soon as you found out."

_"Didn't want to spoil you,"_ Wilson said, and House thought that sometimes his friend seemed to be even funnier over the phone. _"So, how's going?"_

House took the remote and started to play with the volume of the TV, raising and lowering it.

"The hotel was overbooked due to the conference, and we had to share the room. There was some tension at the beginning, but we broke it having sex and now she's fenced in the bathroom under shock."

_"Really?"_  
House rolled his eyes.

"No, you moron!" He yelled. "How can you buy my shit, even from miles away? And what kind of movies do you watch, for God's sake! Bickering and push-pulling couple forced to share the same room is such a lame cliché!"

_"Sorry Mr. Tarantino,"_ Wilson joked on the phone, then sighed. _"Seriously House, how are you doing?"_

Quickly, House thought back at the flight, the heavy silence and the tension they've shared. But then smiled at the memories of the conversation in the elevator, and eventually his grin faded when he realized how they've left each other, that now she was just a floor down-

"Great," he answered rubbing his right leg. "You're the only one worrying about that."

_"I'm not worrying House...and by the way it's your fault!"_ The oncologist yelled on the phone._ "You told me what happened that night-"_

"Never regretted something more in my life."

_"More than not taking advantage on Cuddy?"_

T_hat's the problem,_ House thought. _I don't regret that. And fuck if I know why!_

"Yeah you're right," House protested instead. "Thank for reminding me that! Is that your evil plan to put us together? Remind me what a moron I've been-"

"Never said you've been a moron for not taking advantage of the situation," Wilson cut him off with a calm voice.

_Well, at least we agree about something,_ he thought, but of course, his mouth took a different route.

"I was," he admitted. "And wash that idiot gloating smile away from you face."  
_"We're on the phone House, how could you know I'm smiling!"_

"Because you're a silly predictable man when it comes to someone else life. And because I can hear that in your voice."

_"You have a problem House, you know that?"_

"Yes," he puffed and laid down on the bed. "Its name is James Wilson. But don't worry for me, I know how to fix it."

That said, House just hung up the phone and tossed it on the bed next to him. Sighing, he brought his hands to the back of his head intertwining his fingers, thinking he could have killed for a piano in that moment. He needed to play to let everything flow out of him, like he have done every night in the last week or so.

* * *

CHAPTER 9 "KNIGHTS OF THE ROUND"


	10. Knights of the round

_I'm not sure this chapter will be what you expected, but here we go. Cuddy and House have some busy days ahead at the conference._

* * *

CHAPTER 9

"KNIGHTS OF THE ROUND"

She had been ready for everything.

To spend one hour knocking at his door to wake him up; to call the reception to get a spare key and get inside the room; to find him asleep and snoring, in the best scenario. Or passed out, dealing with a massive hangover, the minibar empty as Santa's gift bag the 26 of December... God, she had even wondered about knocking at the door and finding a half-naked woman opening at her!

But she wasn't ready for that.

Not ready for House, knocking at her door, earlier then the necessary.  
"I'm starving."

That was all he said when she opened the door, still in shock when he turned on his heels and headed to the elevator. Surprised, Cuddy managed to break the spell generated by the unexpected phenomenon, and quickly followed him. She knew she must have had a dumb expression all over her face, staring at him standing next to her in the elevator...but he had showered, he smelled good and he was more than on time.

House noticed she was staring at him and shrugged, wondering if he had something on his face.

"House, are you nervous?" She asked, and he looked at her. "For this round table?"

House shook his head and swallowed a Vicodin.

"Why should I be? The only think I have to worry about, is how keep myself awake."

"House," she exhaled and forced him to look at her, fearing the answer for the question she was about to ask. "You do know how this kind of things goes, right?"

"Sure," he nodded and she closed her eyes, breathing again. "Stupid doctors with huge egos sit around a table, which is never round as they name it, talking about stuff they don't believe in."

"You have a huge ego too," she muttered.

"But I'm not stupid," he pointed out, smiling evilly when he saw her nodding in agreement. "So, what's the topic of the farce?"

Hearing those words, Cuddy's eyes widened in shock, and she grabbed his shoulders turning him into her forcefully.

"You don't know?" she yelled on his face. "House, please tell me you're joking. I gave you the brochure-"

"Too much to read in just one day."

Cuddy closed her eyes taking a deep breath, fighting back the instinct to kill him, and when she thought she was calm enough she tried again.

"Anamnesis, the round table is about importance of a good patient history," he snorted annoyed and she shivered, then glanced at the block notes he was holding in his left hand. "If you haven't prepared anything, what's that for?"

The elevator stopped and the door opened on the ground floor. Cuddy pulled back and House stepped out, then looked at the note and shrugged.

"Just figured I'll need something to keep my mind busy, when things will get extremely boring," he said, then headed to the restaurant. "You don't want to me fall asleep and snore during the show, do you?" He added with a loud voice, and Cuddy could do nothing but hide her face in her hands.

* * *

A very personal version of Snowhite and the seven dwarfs.

The view of the street outside the living room's window.

A kangaroo with floppy blond hair.

A soft and sweet teddy bear, that looked incredibly familiar with those brown puppy's eyes.

Those were just some of the things drawn on the pages on the block-notes, and the round table had run for just one hour.

It was deadly boring, and there was no way out, not even coffee break. Which was beyond strange, coffee was a constitutional right in medical conferences!

Once again, Cuddy felt her eyelids were about to shut down and shook her head, while drawing a collar around the kangaroo's neck, that ended in the hand of a blond girl with big Bambi's eyes. Looking for a different kind of distraction, Cuddy decided it was about time to check House. She had done that every 20 minutes, and every time she did he showed he knew what she was up making her silly faces. She sighed and lifted her head, glancing around the half-empty room, spotting a couple of people struggling not to fall asleep. Clearly, she wasn't the only one being mortally bored. Then she looked over at House, sitting at the right corner of the table, occupied by three other doctors.

And her jaw almost dropped on the floor.

A cat, a giraffe, a snake...and was that a rhinoceros or a dinosaur? And...oh my God! That one really looked like a mammoth! In front of House, there was a whole origami zoo, all the little animals parked one next the other, while House's fingers went on creating a bear... _No_, Cuddy thought bending her head to look better_. That's a panda._

She sighed again, so loud that the man next to her coughed and moved one seat away. She gave him just an absent look, but intensely glared at House, hoping he could feel her eyes on him and turned in her direction. It worked, House looked back at her and his fingers froze for a moment. They shared a long intense gaze, but in the end he simply shrugged and went back to finish the lion he had just started. Cuddy shook her head but then looked down at her notes... Well, at least he wasn't snoring!

* * *

He knew it was a mistake. He had tried to convince the board that invite Dr. House wasn't a good idea, but nobody listened to him. And then there they were, the biggest asshole of medicine playing with paper animals like a child!

Kevin Carnell couldn't accept that, not a fucked up doctor with God's complex, doing what he wanted without fearing the consequences. Not in his city, not in the symposium he had planned.

"-so yes, to answer your question dr. Collins," the woman next to him was saying. "Even considering the big steps medicine and diagnostic had done yes, I do think speaking with the patient is still best way to get an accurate history."

The whole table nodded in agreement, but House chuckled absently. And when Collins opened his mouth to say something, Carnell saw his window of opportunity and quickly stepped in.

"Very wise conclusion Dr. Preacher, I can't but agree with you," he said flattering, and the woman nodded, then he glared at House. "I'd really want to know Dr. House's opinion on this."

Cuddy's hand froze. Right when she had started to pamper herself with the idea they could have made it through that with no harm... She looked over at House, who had just finished making an eagle, and he looked at her. He grinned, and moved his eyes to the man at the other side of the table.

_Oh God helps us!_ She prayed biting her bottom lip.

"You want my opinion, Dr. Cornell?" He asked, challenge tone already up in his voice.

"It's Carnell-"

"Whatever-"

Carnell's hands gripped around the pen, fighting the desire to yell, then he looked at House.

"Just wondering how your voice may sound," the host then said with a grin, and Cuddy closed her eyes trying to hide her despair.

_Oh please don't,_ she thought _Don't put it down to sarcasm with him!_

"Well, I'm flattered," House smirked, and looked around at the small audience made by about 20 people, included Cuddy who was trying to sink on her chair. "Too bad we don't have a microphone. I'm a pretty good singer, you know."

"Since we're talking about diagnostic, I thought you'd want to share your insights with us," Carnell went on teasingly "You're supposed to be some kind of expert, right?"

Cuddy had to bite her tongue. _Some kind of expert? House could be an asshole, but as a doctor, he deserves all the credit-_

"Phil, its Joey," a voice behind her said. Cuddy turned around, and saw a young man whispering on the phone "Yeah, come here! Old Frog opened fire on House."

She just had the time to realize the young doctor seemed to be extremely excited about that, then she heard someone else ask.

"Actually House, I'm curios too," the man next to him jumped in "You are indeed one of the best diagnostician of the country, and I'd really like to know your opinion about this. Interacting with the patient is-"

"-a waste of time," House blurted out staring, at Carnell. "Useless most of the time, because we treat diseases, not patients."

"Seems the same to me," Carnell implied, and the other doctors nodded in agreement.

House opened his mouth to say something, when the door opened and a young couple stepped inside, reaching the man sitting behind Cuddy.

"Maybe that's why I'll give the main speech this afternoon, while you'll arrange thing with catering service for tonight party," House hissed oozing sarcasm, and Cuddy hoped the floor could swallow her in that very moment. "I care about the diseases, find it and fix it. Patients are just a disturbing background. Personally, my favourite ones are comatose kids. Well, mute are on top of the list, but as far as they can't talk I'm ok."

"You mean you don't talk with your patients?" Collins asked, and House nodded, almost proudly.

"You don't meet the people you're taking care of?" Dr. Preacher asked, shocked.  
"It would be useless."

"What do you mean useless?" The woman asked again, now more intrigued than shocked by his stubborn principles.

From her chair in the second row, Cuddy lifter her head to look at House, now completely focused on a conversation in which was finally worth to be involved. There was a long silence after the woman's question, then Cuddy muttered the words "everybody lies" in a low voice, at the same time on which House said them out loud.

"Crap!"  
"Damn it!"

The young men behind Cuddy hissed at the same time, handling 50$ each to the girl in between them.

"Told ya," she whispered taking the money with a smile.

"So that's how you work?" Carnell went on. "You base medicine over mottos?"  
_Yep,_ Cuddy thought. _And as crazy as it might sound, it usually works._

"Nope," House puffed leaning back on the chair, frankly annoyed he had to explain his view again. "I base it on the evidence mottos are always true."

"But why someone who's sick should lie to his doctor?" Collins asked frustrated, unable to get House's point. "People want to get better, they want doctors to diagnose and cure. So why lie to them? It's stupid-"

"People are stupid," House cut him off, and Cuddy noticed there was no playful tone in his voice. "They hide things, they lie, even when they're sick. We all do that all the time. Fear to die is always smaller than shame, than the one to be judged for our sins. Especially when they end up turning tables on us. We hide things to ourselves when we don't like them, we're willing to lie for people we care about," he looked down at his own hands, an imperceptible flicker in his voice only Cuddy could catch, then he looked back up at the audience. "The more you love someone, the more you hide. And you'll never love someone more than yourself."

It wasn't easy. To create silence wasn't easy at all, but nothing seemed to be impossible for House. Maybe it had been his voice, the calm and slow way in which he had spoken. Or maybe the way he had interrupted the quick and tight banter with that long, and for him, unusual speech. But his words had just stolen everyone's voice. Cuddy was without any doubts the person who knew him better than anybody else there, and yet she was mesmerized. Knowing him, his methods, his view of medicine, his beliefs...none of that could change the fact she had never heard him explain himself that way. And it didn't make it less powerful. The absolute certainty he really meant and believed what he said did nothing but make his statement even more meaningful, stronger.

And sad.

Truly sad.

House stopped playing with the paper eagle and glanced around. A teasing smile on his face told Cuddy he was in control of the situation, that in that moment he had everybody's gorges in his hands and it was up to him to decide when and how break the spell. She was sure of that because she was feeling the same, but when she caught the playful light up in those piercing blue eyes, she sighed and prepared herself for everything.

"Like Mr. Catholic, over there," he said then in a loud voice, stretching his long arm and pointing at a doctor in the first row, his features clearly giving away his Irish origins. "He'd rather let his wife die, other than tell her she needs to be cured for the STD he gave her after he took it from his young and pretty assistant. But don't worry madam," he added nodding at the woman at the doctor's left. "It's just gonorrhoea, nothing you should worry about."

**CHAPTER 10 "WORDS CAN HURT"**


	11. Words can hurt

_It's good to see you liked House's intervention at the conference, and it's not over yet. Sorry I will have to leave you hanging: I will be away and unable to post for a few days. But we will back soon!_

* * *

CHAPTER 10

"WORDS CAN HURT"

She was there, standing next to the door waiting for him to come out. Damned him, if he could tell what she had in store for him! Nevertheless, the more he limped closer to her, the more he became sure she was smiling.

_Well at least she had a good time,_ he said to himself.

House was almost at the door, his mouth open ready to say something, when someone hit from behind. He turned back ready to protest, but a human convoy made by three wagons ran over him. Dr. Catholic had the lead, holding his briefcase to his chest with one hand, and using the other one to cover his left cheek. That was the spot his wife, coach number two, had slapped furiously when she had noticed how bad and guilty the last vertex of the triangle, the infamous assistant, had blushed at House's statement. House quickly stepped away, following with his eyes the trio carrying the drama outside the conference room. While Cuddy approached him, House grinned catching the words "liar, son of a bitch" and threats about informing Father Nichols coming Mrs. Catholic in Betrayed.

"You couldn't help this, right?" Cuddy muttered, doing her best not to smile.

House shrugged and popped himself a Vicodin, glancing back at the paper animals left on the table.

"I was bored...damn everybody was!" He exclaimed. "I thought I could spice things up."

Cuddy rolled her eyes at him, and then remembered how she had kept herself busy until he had decided to wake up the audience. She made a mental note to herself to destroy those pages, and then grabbed him at his elbow, pushing him outside the conference room.

"Yes House, we're all grateful. Now, what about a coffee?"

"If you offer."

Cuddy smiled and they both headed to the bar. House felt curious eyes on him, and Cuddy could hear murmuring wherever they passed by. Those who were at the round table, were spreading the news like a virus and they both knew, when they sat at a table, they were the centre of everybody's attention.

"Why do I have a feeling everybody is watching you?" Cuddy asked.

House grinned and leaned back on the chair, absently glancing around.

"You think we should have them pay?" She smiled back. "And by the way, why aren't you complaining with me?"

"For what?" She asked waving her hands in the air. "You did behave, I mean...for your usual standards. And you managed not to insult anybody," she looked beyond him, at the Irish drama still going on. "Well, you did destroy a marriage, but I wouldn't have recognized you if you hadn't screwed something."

House drank his coffee and bent down, placing his elbows on the table, his blue eyes studying her face. He was enjoying that, the banter, her sharp mind, the way she had no fear to mock him and face him...God, he was so glad she was there!

"I take you enjoyed the show," Cuddy nodded, hesitantly but honestly, well aware his speech was meant to drive them to a new part of the conversation. "You don't want a full access pass to the backstage?"

She raised an eyebrow to him, valuing his offer to reveal how he had figured out the affair. But she didn't need it. With her best dean of medicine face, Cuddy put down the cup of coffee, intertwined her fingers, lifted her joint hands and rested her chin on them, staring at him.

"The restaurant, this morning," she started. "When you came back from the restroom, you had this amused evil grin all over your face. Dr. Catholic came out right after you, buttoning his pants, his face red as much as his hair," House was smiling broadly, and she would have lied if she'd tried to convince herself she wasn't flattered by his appreciation. "Then I went to ladies restroom, and that girl looked like she had just had an orgasm. When she got out of the bathroom, a bottle of Ceftriaxone fell off her purse, and when she joined Dr. Catholic I noticed the ring matching with the other woman."

House was still grinning, but his smile quickly faded. He leaned down on her, Cuddy was caught off guard and couldn't prevent him from whispering right in her face.  
"Gossip huntress."

Slowly, House went back at his place, leaving a slightly blushing Cuddy on her chair, her mouth half-open.

"I'm not-"

"Yes you are," he cut her off. "You saw me coming out of the bathroom that way, and you went in there to find out why. You saw the girl and looked for her back at the restaurant, and you were intrigued enough to pay attention to their hands... And you were grinning too," he concluded, pointing an accusatory finger to her.

"I guess that's what years of bad frequentation did to me," she soughed teasingly.

"Maybe if I give you private lessons, the next time you'll be the one who will need to be baby-sit to come to one of this conference."

"Why don't you start trying not to need one for yourself?" She puffed, not doing anything to hide her fatigue. "You know, I could have been home taking some time for myself-"

_Cuddy, you're a moron!_

Those words were screamed in her head, as soon as the earlier ones came out of her mouth. As soon as she saw the playful expression on House's face disappear. He pulled back from the table, averting his eyes from her, trying to find something else to land them on; something unable to catch that moment of weakness. Cuddy might not see it, but she knew it was there. She had caused it, and she had no idea how to fix it.

Despite House trying to offer her an easy way out.

"So," he exhaled loudly. "When is the afternoon show?"

Cuddy cursed him for his deflection skills, especially when she wanted him to confront her. But he didn't, and she knew it meant he was hurt.

"House-"

He stood up, slowly but decisively, taking his cane.

"I almost fell asleep during the round table. I better take a nap, or I'll end up crashing on the lectern."

Cuddy stared at him, silently praying him not to make a big deal out of that. But he clearly did want to make one, and he wasn't in the mood to help her out. His eyes were asking her to let him run away, pretending not to be as coward as he was feeling.

She didn't want to, but since she had screwed up that it seemed fair enough.

"It's at 5," she said, caving to his determined eyes. "In the main hall."

House nodded and gave her his back, then slowly limped out of the restaurant. Left alone, Cuddy clenched her hands around the empty coffee cup, as strong as she could, hoping she could have said something different. In that moment, she noticed House had forgot his notes on the table. She took the notepad and opened it, curios to find out how many pages were left after he had played God, creating his own paper ark.

He had indeed ripped off a few pages, but the first one was still there, untouched and full of word written on that incomprehensible handwriting of him.

_Being the clinic history of patients, anamnesis is not something doctors should take into serious consideration. The information about patients are useful to have a complete background, but the diagnosis must be collected in the patient's environment and not from the patient, because it would mean base medicine over what non doctors say—_

* * *

**CHAPTER 11 "THE LONE GUNMAN"**


	12. The lone gunman

_Ok, sorry it took me a while, but I have been on holiday for a couple of weeks._

_We left House and Cuddy right after an unpleasant conversation…too bad, things were going fine. Now we move on to the afternoon part of the conference: House is ready take the stage, all eyes are on him._

_I hope you won't find this chapter too confusing, I couldn't think of a better way to give the idea..._

* * *

**CHAPTER 11**

**"THE LONE GUNMAN"**

She knew that couldn't last forever; and despite the fact she had enjoyed the pros, she was somewhat relieved things were back to normal.

House was late. Not much to be honest, still enough for the crowded room waiting for his speech. Well, there was the chance some of them were just hoping to get some more of Dr. House on stage, and have something to tell about that weekend. Whatever the reason, all the seats were taken, and everybody was waiting for him.

And of course, he wasn't even answering the phone.

Finally, the door opened and House came in. Cuddy sighed and hung up the phone, then covered her face when she noticed he had the red marks of the pillow on his left cheek. She followed him with her eyes, desperately trying to catch his attention and have the chance to talk to him, to make sure he had prepared at least a hint of a speech. She doubted that, and frankly was too afraid to find out.

Before she could do anything, Dr. Sheets guided him to the podium. House walked up to the lectern, and dived one hand in his pocket to get his bottle of Vicodin. He swallowed two, and then looked at the audience. He glanced at the room, landing his gaze on Cuddy, then took an imperceptible breath and opened his mouth.

* * *

_Late, but not that late after all...I should have probably set an alarm. At least I would have had the time for a coffee._

_Looks like we have a lot of people here, but where is... There she goes. Jesus, she's mad at me because I'm late! C'mon Cuddy, like you could be surprised! But why is she staring at me? Do I have something on my face? Relax Cuddy, I can handle this...somehow. Well, this city must be boring, if all these people had nothing better to do. I hope they didn't pay for the ticket.  
Yeah Mrs. "I planned this convention, don't ruin it". I know I'm late. Give the cripple a break, ok?_

_Perfect! A standing speech, exactly what my bum leg loves. I hope they won't mind if I keep this short. Better take one...two Vicodins, at least they'll help me stay awake. It's sold out here, looks like my charm really hit this morning._

_Hey there Cuddy, hope you brought something to read. Ok, breathe in and-  
What's the topic here again?_

* * *

"When I was 10, my parents gave me Meccano for Christmas, and I barely opened the box. The next year, it was some kind of "little chemical", but it was "accidentally" thrown away after a week. When I made 12 it was a book, and after that, they got me a bicycle... Well ok, I did like that. For my 13th birthday, my folks finally came to their senses, and bought me a 1000 pieces puzzle."

_Nobody's talking... They're either sleeping, or I did catch their attention._

"It was a boring landscape of the Grand Canyon, but 1000 pieces were a challenge for a 13 year old boy. It took me a month, more or less. I had it on the desk in my room, the completed parts and the random pieces along with the glue, always at my disposal. Every day, as soon as I got home from school I worked on it. Every spare moment, was dedicated to solving that puzzle. Sometimes I even woke up in the middle of the night to work on it."

_Yeah, I wasn't the most popular kid back then, so what? Like all of you here had a happy adolescence, you bunch of hypocrites._

"I eventually got it done. If you've ever complete a puzzle, you know that thrill. When the pile of pieces get smaller and smaller, while the empty spaces on the puzzle fit one after the other, colours and confused shapes turning into clear images. And then, I had it. Everything in the right place. Almost done," _Damn, it still hurts! _"Or so I thought."

* * *

Cuddy didn't know how he did that; constantly catching her of guard, doing the last thing everybody was expecting. What the hell was that speech? Was he just trying to screw with the audience, or was he actually going somewhere?

For sure, she wasn't expecting him to actually talk about diagnostic straightaway. She would have been ok with him using the story of his leg, although she doubted he would repeat himself. But that melancholy tale about his childhood, came totally out of the blue.

"And then, I had it. Everything in the right place. Almost done," he was saying, and stopped with a quick grimace on his face. "Or so I thought."

He paused. Cuddy stared at him, desperately trying to figure out what could come next.

* * *

_I can't believe, they're still listening! Oh please Cuddy, don't give me that worried look! Save it for later._

"There was a piece missing. It was one from the bottom edge, just one. Something insignificant, just one over 1000...but that single missing piece, made the other 999 completely useless," _fuck! I hated that, and none of you will ever get how frustrating it was._ "I checked on the cover, trying to figure out what was in the missing piece...and there it was, a little bush, exactly in the missing piece. I didn't need to look for it, I've kept all the pieces in perfect order, I just knew it was missing since from the beginning, and there was nothing I could have done about that. Technically, the puzzle was done. But not to me, because the image I got didn't fit with the one on the box, it wasn't what it was supposed to be."

_Ok, maybe it's about time to cut the overture, and get to the main part. I'm boring myself with all this crap. Oh wait, I think I know that man... Oh yes! It's the moron from this morning!_

* * *

From her seat, she couldn't see him. But when Carnell rose from his chair and spoke, she recognized him immediately.

"I'm sorry Dr. House. This story is fascinating, but I think all these people are here to hear you say something about diagnostic," the man looked around, somebody nodded in agreement and that was all he needed. "What's the point in this speech of yours?"

Cuddy rolled her eyes at him. She knew House wasn't easy to trip on that kind of trap, but that Dr. Carnell over there was pushing too much. Sighing, she looked over at House, who took a Vicodin and observed the man standing with a bored expression.  
"You should try to be more patient, you know. It does help when you're a doctor," Cuddy had to bite her tongue, repressing a laugh. "And I was about to get to the point before you interrupted me...trying to get a revenge for this morning," House added with a resented and insulted expression, fake as a three dollar note.

Behind her, Cuddy heard somebody in the audience talking and whispering, laughing. House was getting the crowd warmed up. She glanced over at Dr. Carnell, he really seemed to have taken that as a personal battle against House, and she hoped he knew what he was putting himself into, for his own sake.

"Running a DDX it's like doing a puzzle, the only difference is that you don't know in advance what image you're supposed to match. Pieces," House said, leaving the lectern and heading to the table to sit on it. "The symptoms are the pieces, you need to put them together properly, in order to have to puzzle done and complete the diagnosis."

* * *

"...you don't know in advance what image you're supposed to match. Pieces," _God my leg is killing me! Let's sit down and deal with the moron properly._ "The symptoms are the pieces, you need to put them together properly in order to have the puzzle done and to complete the diagnosis. And no," _shut up you. I don't need you to ask that._ "You don't need to talk with the patient to have that. You've got the pieces, the symptoms are there and you don't need anything more. If anything, patients are just a distraction. They just add things that will end up confusing doctors, and take them away from the right answer. You can't cheat with puzzles, if you do you won't get it done and someone will die," _I need to remember this cheating thing, it's good._ "Symptoms never lie, and neither do puzzles pieces. If you have them all, you can't complete the puzzle, and at the same time if the puzzle is done but something is still missing, there must be something wrong and-"

_And I can't believe that asshole is still trying to piss me off!_

* * *

"...clearly there must be something wrong and-"

"Symptoms are just part of the "puzzle" Dr. House," Carnell said again, earning a bored glare from House, along with an annoyed one from Cuddy and someone else in the audience. "There are so many details, so many different variables and possible diseases-"

"Which are all part of the picture, if you know them all and you're aware of the different ways in which a disease can present itself," House said twirling his cane in his fingers ."Once you have all the clues, you just need to find the disease that matches them all."

One hand rose from the audience and House nodded, and Cuddy sighed relieved. At least that speech wouldn't have been a one on one confrontation. At House's nod, a woman stood up and glanced down at her notepad, before looking at him again.

"I'm sorry Dr. House. I'm sure you're an expert when it comes to diagnosis, but it's really hard to believe you can find the right one just thank to symptoms, and without talking to the patients."

Cuddy caught the boredom on House's face, and was glad he didn't insult the woman.

"I thought that was the morning part," he mumbled, frowning confused. "I usually see my patients in two cases," House said then, showing two fingers. "When I have to tell them they're dying, and this doesn't really happen really often. Or when I have to confront them about the dirty little secret they keep hiding, and that I've found out. Which, of course, is the key to save their life...and trust me, you'd be shocked how many times I have to do that."

"This makes no sense," Carnell protested, trying to bring the audience on his side. "So why bother building hospitals, if all you need is a list of symptoms?"

House shrugged and Cuddy closed her eyes, sinking her head in her shoulders, knowing something was about to come.

"I need a fast connection to download porn," House said with a grin, stealing the audience a nervous laugh. "You can question my methods as much as you want-"

"I'm not questioning it. I want you to prove it," Carnell cut him off with a huge grin on his face. "I mean, these people...we're all here because we've heard about your skills. You've done nothing but giving us words...what about showing us how it works?"

House stopped playing with his cane and rested it on his lap, staring at the doctor, trying to determine if he really wanted to go on. But he wasn't interested, Cuddy didn't see the light of challenge sparkling in his eyes, and she wasn't surprised. House had never been one to fall for that kind of provocation, and that really was a worthless fight.

"We're all doctors here," Carnell went on, smelling House's hesitation and seeing it as fear. "One of us can pick a disease and list the symptoms. If it's as easy as you say, you won't need anything else."

"You're asking me to do exactly the same thing I do every day?" House teased. "I thought these conferences were supposed to teach new stuff."

* * *

"You're asking me to do exactly the same thing I do every day?" _Like I couldn't get more bored. _"I thought these conferences were supposed to teach new stuff. I guess if I say no, you'll convince yourself you beat the cranky doctor... Too bad, I'm not interested in this kind of thing," _Thanks, my ego is already big enough._ "Feel free to tell the waitress of tonight's party you humiliated me. I don't care-"

_What the hell are you up to?_

**_CHAPTER 12 "HIGH NOON"_**


End file.
